Carry you home
by whoyouarexo
Summary: Hannah feels no option but to carry on how she is..but when she meets someone, she finds a reason to wake up in the morning..is this a strong enough reason for recovery?
1. Subordinating attempt

Pull the trigger.

My hospital bed. My hospital room. That's where I woke up. Why was I here? Surrounded by white walls and the corrupt smells of fresh flowers, sent in sympathy.

I examined the cards..why were people telling me to get well, to focus on myself, and that I was beautiful? There was nothing wrong with me, I didn't need to get well, I was well.

I put my head up and opened my eyes again, wondering if I would ever receive a insight to what was going on. I saw a blurred figure sitting on my bed, my mum. Why was she approving of the fact I had been locked away like a mental convict, I hadn't done anything wrong, and if I had to repeat that to my family aswell as Darren, I was just going to have to end my involvement with them.

My eyes darted around the room, trying to avoid the calm blue eyes of my mother, who obviously wanted to chat, she looked at me with that fake empathy that all people of her profession have. Shes a nurse. She swans around pretending she has seen it all before, but it's a milestone when she sees me because its heartbreaking, because im her own flesh and blood. She doesn't know what shes talking about, because im not ill.

"Han.." she starts, and I whimper uncaringly, and she looks at me like im some creature that's walked off a spaceship and into her life

"Han your in the hospital" she bravely continued

"why?" I asked, beads of sweat forming on my forehead, I was breathing heavily because I was focusing so much, I just needed to know.

"Hannah your ill" my mum said, and my eyes widened, and glistened with the threat of tears

"im fine" I said, smacking my bed with a weak curled up fist, and it contradicted the way my voice was emotionally devoid.

"han look at yourself" my mum had answered, clearly struggling

"what about myself?" I snarled

"han, you.."

"ive what mum..ive lost weight..like girls do?" I spat, nastily, she was just jealous, they were all jealous, they were putting me here because their faces were green, they didn't know anything, they just wanted to fatten me up so I was like I used to be, the big bubbly blonde with bingo wings and a gay boyfriend. John Paul Mcqueen. My first love..not that I ever had a chance with him, seeing as he preferred his best friend to me..literally. he was gay.

"mum its just been a hard time..stop it!" I squealed, and she looked at me like I was helpless, like nobody could help me anymore because of the way I had become…I knew that stare, she perfected It the first time

"its understandable love..everything this year..ash..justin..sarah"

"you think ash had a effect on my eating. God mum your as thick as you look" I said, my voice laced with malice. Like I cared who I hurt, did they care when they were having me forced into the back of a paramedic van in front of the whole village? Did they consider my feelings when they let Rhys ride off into the sunset with my sister, as a ROMANCE..although it didn't stand the test of time, she died on the way…they didn't care about anything apart from theirselves. They just were out to humiliate me and make me ugly.

Melissa wouldn't have it. Melissa was my best friend. She was long, lean, skinny and ready to be the next big supermodel. She had helped me loose weight, draw up a effective eating plan so I could loose all the excess dress, she had given me sample sized clothes from all her modelling jobs to egg me on, and she showed me where to measure myself,how to weigh myself with astonishing accuracy..she even helped me see that eating was pointless…and so it was.

I used to be known as "Hannah the pig" I would be the joke of my family, always eating puddings and chips, and living off takeaways. I was like an elephant. Then one day, new years eve, I had had my first binge. John Paul and Craig had just left as a couple, I had a argument with Sarah and Nancy, and nothing ever felt good enough when my best friend Sarah was the village hottie and the model.

I treated myself to every food in the fridge, Christmas leftovers, Christmas puddings, cakes, crisps, stuffing them in and not giving them the chance to process before I shovelled in more.

Then suddenly, as I swung the fridge shut, my reflection caught my eye as I saw my eyes popping out of this face full of food. I had ran to the toilet and threw it up, shoving my fingers as far down my throat as they would reach, as long as everything was out and I was a normal girl size again.

I felt in control. The one thing I could control was my food, and then I met Melissa and things only got better. We made plans to leave together, go and visit Italy, one of the fashion capitals of the world, I had always wanted to go. We got as far as going back to my house for my passport, we were happy, until my menacing brother Rhys came and tried to escort her out. I screamed, punched him with my bony fists, while Melissa stood in the corner, now struggling.

Then suddenly, Josh cried out, and I looked around to see my best friend slowly suffering a heart attack on the floor, she was shaking, having a fit, her eyes were drumming soundlessly into the back of her head, my mum ran in and tried to revive her, but it had been too late my the time the paramedics had came.

That night I felt like I had lost a part of me..she had helped me, taken pictures of my body for me to show me how I was doing, she was a inspiration and now I had to carry on without her. She had warned me that without her, I would become fat again, without her constant support, people would tell me that I was ill, try and get me to believe it too, and it happened. I was heaved into hospital, and sat in a bed, being pumped again and again with fluids, being made to eat kid sized meals, and the portions slowly got larger and larger. I got released, and ate properly for ages..but I was waiting to relapse, my family were on tenterhooks, they were expecting it.

And then the love of my life, Justin left me, abandoned me as he went off for life on the run, leaving me, the person he had promised he would never go anywhere without because he loved me. Maybe he secretly didn't, maybe he said it to please me…maybe I was just another notch on his bedpost, another one for his little black book, someone he could boast about to all his mates, like he cared about me.

I told Sarah this theory, she scoffed. Talking about how he saved me from ash, the motorbike accident, the pervert garage man, and how he risked his life in the fire..but it had all been out of guilt, that didn't mean he loved me. I was his charity case. And then there was Jamie..i went to a festival to escape, and found myself falling for a drug dealer who hid his drugs in a out of service ice cream van, he had pretended we could have a new life, that we could be together, but the same day I had to catch the bus back to Hollyoaks because it was another affair that wouldn't work because he never loved me..and then as I stepped off the bus, I walked into Sarahs dad..i asked him how Sarah was and he frowned at me, took my arm, took me aside..he told me Sarah was dead..killed by her parachute not opening. And Zoe had gone down for it. and then a couple of weeks later, Zoe was stabbed by Lydia, who had killed Sarah. And they said I only had a bit of stress in my life? I had more then they had ever had to face..did they even know what stress was?

My face wobbled as I saw the way my mum looked at me, my father through the window looked repulsed that I was related to him, that I was in a mess. Darren was on the other side of him, with his fake worry and his "tender" caring side, which I couldn't care a less about. Rhys and Josh stood, looking like they were united, looking like they would look after me, but I knew that would never happen.

They couldn't control me.

I wanted to control myself

They had controlled my whole life.

My turn now.


	2. Out into the darkness

"Hannah, your killing yourself"

"Han, your seriously ill"

Ive heard it all before..all the pity speeches. All of them pretending they care, just because they feel guilt. This is how they have made me. this is their problem, its them who used to call me names, assume things, and now here I am surrounded by white walls being told im the crazy one. I feel like im going crazy in here.

They try and force feed me, pretend to be on my side, telling me stuff like "its not that many calories".

They think that makes it better. Well they really have a small amount of empathy. They follow me to the toilets, the toilets that don't lock incase I try and make myself sick again. They search my bed, my pillow cases, because they actually think I hide food in there.

This isn't getting better, this is the definition of a prison; I wake up, have a sorrowful visitor like Rhys, Mum or Josh coming to feed me food, then they make small talk. We watch day time tv. Then I have lunch. Then its "letter writing" time..like that is going to help me. who am I going to send a letter to, Justin? That would require me to have a address for him. I don't.

Then I have more smalltalk, more tv, then dinner.

Then I get to exercise, to make myself feel like im burning it off. Im not sure walking up and down the ward in a line of girls is going to help me, but everyones acting like its what they live for.

Darren comes, he sits, I struggle, then it ends.

Nancy comes, tries to tell me how stupid im being, I scream, she goes.

Then my family come, try and console me.

Ive heard them talking. They pretend they are my friends. Apparently im one of the "toughest cases" they have ever had. Im proud rather then insulted. I know Melissa would be proud.

Shes in my head sometimes. She talks to me, she tells me how great I look, but how I need to keep going and not let them get the better of me. I wait night after night for a opportunity to escape. I convince my family im doing better, so they don't act like guard dogs. After a month, even with counselling, my thoughts are the same. They all think its harder to get through to me because ive had a relapse. But ive numbed myself. Ive trained myself in what to say, what to think when im around them, so they all think im getting better, ease off the pressure. So they don't guard me every night, so they let me go to the toilets with special locks on them. They trust me. I don't trust them. They may think my guards been knocked down, but its not happening.

Melissa appears in my head, almost as if shes in front of me. As beautiful and skinny as she ever was.

She tells me to "stop hanging about, its clear"

It's a sign, I can escape this hell hole.

I take out the tubes that are connected to me,silently. I don't even know their relevance. Ive been pretending im willing to eat, so they don't really have much reason of being there. Im not going to die without their presence.

I silently tip toe towards the door and snicker softly at the old tart on the reception sleeping. I exit. I have my own clothes..they let me wear them now, a t-shirt, a hoodie and tracksuit bottoms. Its like I have a terminal illness, but a lot better then those mental hospital gowns. I wouldn't be seen dead in one.

I breathe in the scent of fresh air. Its so nice to have a change to being stuffed in a hospital where the only air I get is in the grounds, where they walk me once a week, acting like im some rescue-dog they need to look after.

Now im on my own. The possibilities are endless..apart from one problem. I don't have any money.

What can I do.

I read about girls becoming prostitutes. Im so desperate to get away from here I would. But I know I just have to do the ultimate. Its worse then prostitution in a way. I enter drive and buy, using the key only I know about, the one Rhys puts under the mat. And then I raid the till..so many £10 notes, £20 notes, I could go abroad. But it was too risky. I would go somewhere nice like Yorkshire..just stay away..start over.

I knew as soon as I walked away that in the morning I would of ruined my families lifes, they would be worrying because of me.

I sat on the platform, waiting for the train I had decided to board. I waited, I was panicking, what if someone had woken up and rang my family..Josh would know where to find me.

Melissa in my head was telling me to calm down, shut up, stop being such a whinge bag. I almost agreed. The train pulled up. I smiled to myself..maybe things did like to work out for me.

I got on the train and softly waved goodbye to Hollyoaks village, there was no stopping me now, I could live in peace without being under 24 hour surveillance. I still don't know how I managed to escape. Its like escaping big brother, such a feeling of privacy, a wash of reassurance that only you know you. Its deep within the soul but its there.

I could eat, or not eat when I wanted. Go for drinks, so to clubs, get completely wasted & nobody would know.

It was a ordinary morning for Louise Appleton. She went around checking her patients at around 3.00am, just to check everyone was there. It was pathetic, she didn't know why she was being asked, nobody would run, nobody could run. Someone would see. It had never been done.

She felt this way, until 3:13am, when she opened the door to Hannah Ashworth's room, to find the bedsheets ruffled, and no Hannah.

She had escaped.

Nobody had seen.

And now she was meant to explain to a fellow worker, friend, and above all a concerned parent, about how her anorexic daughter managed to escape into the night, lonely, with no money, & nobody in the entire hospital saw her.


End file.
